"Then we're breaking in," Hannah commented. Harry just laughed a little bit and shook his head. They walked toward Malfoy's apartment quickly, weaving through the streets without even really looking where they were going.

"If you insist," Harry sighed.

"You're just mad that he wasn't the killer," Hannah commented, apparently picking up on her partner's dour mood.

"I didn't think he'd be the killer," Harry sighed. "But I was hoping that we'd get a little bit more information out of him.

"Me too," Hannah sighed. "But we both knew that was a long shot. At least we know where he doesn't live. And we know where to find him if he managed to trick us into thinking he wasn't involved."

"I really don't think Draco is that smart," Harry laughed.

"I know he isn't," Hannah commented.

"Why are we still talking about Draco," Harry asked.

"Because we have nothing better to talk about?" Hannah responded. Harry nodded. She had a point. They really didn't have much to talk about. He debated asking if she wanted to come over again that evening. Or sometime soon. But he didn't. Instead he just changed the subject.

"I just hope Pansy doesn't have a cat," he said.

"Or a dog," Hannah responded.

"Or an owl," Harry added.

"Indifferent on toad," Hannah commented.

"Me too," Harry laughed as they finally reached the building. He opened the door for her and they walked in to the building. From there it only took them a moment to find Draco's apartment. Or Pansy's, if their hunch was correct. Hannah gestured to him as they paused outside the door.

"Hey," Harry laughed. "You're the one who gets off on breaking into things."

"Yeah, but if there's someone else living there, I so want you to be the one who has to explain it to Dawlish," Hannah commented.

"So hop to it," Hannah ordered. Harry just looked at her for a moment and then slipped his hand onto his backup wand. He found it was slightly more effective for what he was about to do.

Without looking away from Hannah he cast a weak blasting charm on the door. It flew off its hinges and into the apartment. Hannah just frowned at him as he tucked the wand back into his coat.

"It's open," Harry said.

"That was unnecessary," Hannah commented. She stepped past him and into the apartment. Harry followed her.

"Well it was the first door opening spell that came into my head," he said dryly. "Had someone just opened the door when she'd gotten here. We wouldn't be having this problem now."

"Should I even start with how unprofessional that was?" Hannah asked. She was standing in the living area and just gazing around.

"I caught the door," Harry commented. Hannah looked over at it and noticed that it was floating in the middle of the apartment.

"I suppose you did," she laughed. "I assumed it was just resting against the wall."

"No," Harry smirked. And without even taking his primary wand from his pocket he restored the door to its original location.

"Well enough screwing around, let's find a clue," Hannah said. She started to stalk around Pansy's apartment. She didn't look at anything for more than a moment, and she didn't touch anything. She always gave any area they were searching a once-over before seriously looking for clues.

Harry took his time in making sure the door was perfectly secure before turning back into the apartment proper. He watched Hannah do her quick look around. Mostly his eyes rested on her backside as she did. But when she stepped into the next room, he started to look around as well.

He took out his wand and looked around the living room that encompassed the entry area of Pansy's apartment. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place. In fact, the apartment seemed very neat, considering Harry couldn't sense any residual magic typically left over from house elves.

He could, however, sense some human magic in the room. The difference was hard to judge at first. But after training it became easier. Elf magic always felt fainter. Human magic felt stronger. Although the trainers at the academy were adamant to not let that fool you. Despite their magic feeling weaker, many were still very powerful, and an angry house elf could be a very dangerous thing.

Of course, Harry knew that from first hand experiences. He couldn't help but smirk at the memory of Dobby's heroics. But it distracted him, and he needed to focus.

He walked to points in the living room where the magic felt the strongest. Most of it was just residual effects from charmed objects such as the replenishing tissue box and the small garbage can that emptied itself daily. Typically charms didn't leave much of a trace, but when they were active it built up.

Nothing really seemed out of the order. There were just lighting spells, heating spells, cooling spells, and all sorts of standard house spells. And, judging by the amount of cleansing and folding charms from the vicinity of the couch, Harry assumed she did her laundry in the living room. He took out his wand and used magic to open the drawers on the side tables. There wasn't anything in the first, the second had nothing unusual. He left the drawers open so Hannah would know he'd looked through them.

She'd gone into one of the bedrooms so he went the opposite way, walking into the semi-exposed kitchen. Again he opened all of the cabinets first, with magic, and peered into them. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, just standard dishes and what not. He summoned each piece out and examined them. He didn't expect to find anything, and he didn't, but it was his job to look at everything. He replaced each piece once he was done.

Next he looked around for any traces of residual magic. There was plenty of it in the kitchen, but again, there wasn't anything that felt out of place. All of the spells he could sense were either standard cooking or cleaning aids. He frowned a bit and looked around a bit more.

Really, in the two rooms he'd searched, the only thing that struck him as out of the ordinary was the fact that she didn't have any mail. He couldn't help but wonder just how she'd pulled that off. He got at least three things a day, almost all of it junk. But there wasn't even a stack of delivered papers or anything.

He paced around the kitchen for a moment longer before moving back into the living room. He frowned a bit and gazed around once more. But there wasn't anything new. So he ducked toward the bedroom, wondering if Hannah located anything.

She wasn't in the bedroom when he entered. But he could see her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had her wand out and was examining everything in Pansy's medicine cabinet. Judging from her expression she hadn't found anything unusual.

"Anything?" Harry asked. He looked around the bathroom. Again, he didn't sense anything that seemed out of place.

"Some drugs," Hannah said, gesturing to the sink. Harry saw some needles and a baggie. He nodded a bit. Drugs made sense, seeing as some had been found in her system.

"Anything else?" Harry asked, gazing around the small bathroom.

"There's something in here," she said, gesturing with her wand to the bottled potion she was examining. "But I'm not sure just what it is." Harry pointed his wand at it and the bottle levitated from her and toward him. He stared at the label a bit.

"What is this?" Harry asked. He didn't recognize the label. "I'm not sure just what we're looking at."

"Doesn't it feel odd?" she asked. He shrugged a bit and focused on it. Something about it did seem off. He couldn't really describe it. But it just didn't feel normal. He focused on it more and tried to determine just what it was.

"A little, yes," Harry said. "But since I have no idea what I'm looking at, I can't really tell if that's oddity or normalcy."

"Look at you with your fancy words. Best I can figure it's a poorly made pain potion," Hannah said, staring over his shoulder at it.

"A poorly made pain potion in a factory bottle?" Harry asked. "Doesn't that seem a tad odd as well?"

"Some people remake potions and just use old bottles," Hannah countered.

"Did you see a cauldron anywhere?" he asked. "Because I certainly didn't."

"No. I haven't spotted one either," Hannah said. "I figured if there was one it would be in the kitchen."

"Nothing unusual in the kitchen," Harry admitted. He focused more on the bottle he was examining. "It could be a bad pain potion. But I think it's just laced with something. And whatever it's laced with is throwing it off."

"Could be," Hannah acknowledged.

"I have no idea what it's laced with though. Let me check something though" he said, and he passed the bottle back to Hannah, magically. She rolled her eyes at his inability to multi-task and levitated it for him as he turned his attention to the drugs resting on the sink. He levitated them up to eye level and examined them, casting a few basic diagnostic spells.

"What are you doing?" Hannah asked as she watched.

"Trying to see if I can get any sort of a sense from them. Then I could compare it to the potion and see if perhaps she just decided needles were too much effort," Harry explained. Hannah just stared at him.

"Isn't that synthetic? It won't have a magical trace," Hannah responded, gesturing to the drug.

"There some natural in it, I believe. Either way, everything has some sort of a trace," Harry countered.

"Synthetics don't," Hannah responded, matter-of-factly.

"Sure they do," Harry countered. "Look harder." She just rolled her eyes.

"And you're not working in forensics why?" she laughed.

"Because this is more fun," he responded dryly, not particularly paying attention to her as he focused on the drugs. He was silent for a few moments before eventually just frowning.

"Let me guess, nothing?" Hannah teased.

"No. There's something. It just doesn't quite match." Harry sighed.

"I'll send the potion back to the ministry and have them take a look at it," she said. Harry shrugged his shoulders. He doubted it would be important. But they really didn't have much to go on. Still, perhaps it would make up for some sort of drug excuse.

"What?" Hannah asked.

"We think a drugged potion matters? That kind of throws serial homicide out the window, don't you think?" Harry asked.

"I just want to know what it is," Hannah commented. "I'm not saying it killed her."

"Then one of us could just take a swig," Harry countered, looking back at the bottle.

"And then if it did kill her?" Hannah rolled her eyes. She could tell Harry was growing bored with the case. He always did during the middle part of investigations. He preferred the battles, and the danger, looking for clues did not suit him.

"Then the non-poisoned one can apparate to the hospital," Harry countered with a smile. Hannah just shook her head and created a bag with both their initials on it to store the potion in before she banished it off to the ministry. It would arrive with inbound mail and be sent directly to forensics.

"I think we'll pass on that," Hannah countered. Harry just shrugged.

"Suit yourself," Harry said. He conjured a bag for the drugs and sent them off after the potion. "Are we done here then?"

"No," Hannah said. "Let's give it another once over. You go look through the bedroom, I'll check the kitchen and living area." Harry just nodded and watched Hannah as she left the bathroom and moved through the bedroom and back into the living area.

He looked around the bathroom first. Again he went through the medicine cabinet once more. There wasn't anything unusual left in it. Hannah had swept it clean. All of the magic in the area again felt completely normal. He walked back out into the bedroom and looked around.

Again, there wasn't anything that looked unusual. He cast a few basic diagnostic spells, mostly to make it appear like he was actually working. He didn't find anything. But he didn't expect to find anything. He was starting to doubt just how much of a link there was in these cases. He took a few moments before stepping back out into the living area.

"Anything?" he asked as he stepped back out into the living room.

"No," Hannah responded. "Everything here seems normal."

"I didn't find anything out of place either," Harry said. He gazed around the apartment once more, walking over toward some of the windows and gazing out down over the streets.

"Well, what now?" Hannah asked. Harry just shrugged a bit.

"We could give Pansy's bed a whirl," he suggested dryly.

"Hmm," Hannah tilted her head to the side, faux-thinking about his suggestion. "I guess. But I'm not sure I want to lay in the same bed that Draco and Pansy used to sleep in."

"That is probably a valid point," Harry commented.

"Well I think it is, and since my opinion is very valid in this situation, I'm going to have to go with no," Hannah concluded. Harry nodded respectfully and turned to face his partner.

"Well I'm out of ideas then," he sighed.

"Me too," she admitted. "Any update on the Apparation records?"

"Hermione mentioned Transportation should have them by midweek. I figured I'd go bother them about them tomorrow and hopefully pick them up Wednesday," Harry sighed.

"Think there will be anything in them?"

"No," Harry admitted. "But it may narrow down some names to someone who may have seen something."

"Beats what we have right now," Hannah commented.

"Yes it does," Harry said.

"I think I'm going to go see if I can get the forensics people to dig deeper into connections between Gemma and Pansy," Hannah sighed.

"At what point do we start thinking that the cases aren't linked?" Harry asked.

"When we can explain away the wand?" Hannah suggested, referencing the stick delivered to Kingsley.

"Which he didn't receive for Gemma," Harry countered as they left the apartment building.

"So do you think the cases aren't linked?" Hannah asked.

"I'm starting to think they may not be," Harry said. "The only thing they really have in common is that we can't figure out what killed them."

"Which is a fairly big commonality," Hannah countered. "Considering we can almost always figure out what killed someone."

"Usually," Harry agreed. "But I think we may want to focus on them as individual cases for a while. Perhaps we should let someone else look into Farley."

"I disagree," Hannah said. "Something about them just makes me think they're linked. If we don't make any progress I'll think about it."

"Alright," Harry said. He didn't think it was worth arguing with her for. So he changed the subject. "Coming over tonight?" he asked.

"Cooking dinner tonight?" Hannah retorted.

"Hadn't planned on it. But I'm sure I could throw something together."

"I'll think about it," she said as they stepped outside and moved toward the apparation point. He could tell from her tone that she wasn't going to think about it. He shrugged his shoulders, disappointed. But he'd get over it soon enough.

"Chicken?" he suggested, purely to keep the banter going.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Just go find some clues so we can solve this damn thing." She walked to the apparation point and then simply disappeared, making her way back to the Ministry.

Harry wasn't really sure what to do next. He didn't really want to work. Which was terrible of him, he knew. But he was stuck in a rut about the case. He walked back toward the alley and debated his next course of action.

He thought about possibly stopping by the Slugs's apothecary and seeing if they could recall anything that may be useful in relation to Gemma. But he didn't think that would result in anything remotely helpful. He suspected the couple had already given him anything they could have known.

Of course, there was still one person who he was pretty certain hadn't confessed everything he knew. But Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to move down that path yet. So instead he wandered down the street, with his hands in his pockets, and really just thought about what he should do.

He didn't come up with anything. So he just kept walking. After a few moments he stepped past the wand shop. Harry couldn't help but stare in the window.

Luna was helping some customers. They looked middle aged. He wasn't quite sure what she was helping them with, as there didn't appear to be a child present. But every now and then adults needed new wands, too.

Harry didn't really care.

All he really cared about was Luna's backside. He wondered how much she exercised, or if her ass was simply that perfect. He spent longer staring at it than he probably should have. But as long as she was facing away from him it seemed like best option. So he just kept staring.

She was wearing a flowery skirt that fell to her knees and a basic blouse. All Harry really thought about was walking up behind her and kissing her neck as his arms slid around her. He'd move her over toward the desk. He wasn't sure if he'd turn her around and lift her onto it, or if he'd just bend her over and slide the skirt up her legs. Either seemed like perfectly good options.

Moments later she turned around, to move toward the counter and check-out the customers, Harry assumed. But she saw him, and blushed just a little bit. He smiled at her and mouthed 'busy' while tilting his head to the side as if to indicate a question. Luna just nodded at him and looked forlornly down. Harry frowned and mouthed 'lunch' with another nod. She shook her head again and mouthed 'sorry' before turning back to the customers.

He just shrugged to himself, not really sure of what else he could do at that point. He kept watching her for a few moments, purely to see if she'd acknowledge him further. But she didn't. So he needed to think of something better to do.

Or at least something that would make him not thinking about bedding Luna for the rest of the day. Although, he suspect short of bedding someone, there wasn't much that would have prevented that.

He walked up the street with no particular destination in mind. But he had an idea once he passed the joke shop. He checked his watch briefly to make sure that it was late enough for his plan to really come to fruition.

He stepped into the joke show and smiled at Verity. She sat at the counter and looked fairly bored. There wasn't anyone in the shop at that moment.

"Hey Mr. Potter," she said as he entered.

"Hello Verity," he responded. "Ron upstairs?"

"No," Ron said from off to his side. "Was going over the inventory." His friend looked a little surprised to see him. He suspected that Ron was still a little bit put off from the last time aurors visited his office. But, Harry hoped he'd be able to lull him without having Hannah present.

"Not at all," Ron commented. He paused a moment to look around the store, mostly to ascertain that there really weren't any customers there, before he spoke again. "What's up?"

"Nothing really," Harry said. "Want to grab a pint?"

"I'm working," Ron laughed. Harry just shrugged.

"So am I," Harry laughed in response.

"So I can't just leave," Ron looked around sheepishly.

"It's lunch time. And I'm sure Verity can handle anything. Isn't there some sort of benefit to being the owner?"

"My brother's the owner," Ron laughed. "I just run the day-to-day."

"So?" Harry laughed. "Still has to be some sort of benefit. Say it's a business deal. I am sort of important, you know." His assertion Ron to chuckled under his breath.

"I guess you are. Well, what did you have in mind?"

"Don't care. Pick a pub and let's floo there," Harry said. Ron just nodded a bit and thought about it for a moment.

"The Charmed Newt has a fantastic lunch special," Ron suggested. Harry just nodded and walked over toward the store's Floo.

"Works for me," he said and tossed some powder into the fire before stepping into it.

The Charmed Newt was a small hole in the wall on the other side of London. Harry wasn't ever quite sure what it appeared to be to Muggles, but none of them ever tried to stop in. Ron stepped out of the fire moments after he did and they simply walked up to the six stool bar.

"Hey Frank," Ron said to the bartender, an older man who was washing glasses with a rag. Harry thought it seemed to be an excessive gesture, but he suspected it was done more out of appearances and habit than with any goal of washing a glass.

"Mr. Weasley," the older man said quietly.

"Ron," Ron amended but the bartender just shrugged. He turned and looked at Harry for a moment, his eyes focusing on the scar, before he just grabbed two pint glasses and poured a deep gold brew into them. He set them down in front of the two patrons before they even bothered to order.

Harry just shrugged a bit at that, he assumed if Ron was a regular it couldn't be all bad. So he took a deep sip from his. It wasn't bad, although it was perhaps a little bit hoppier than he'd prefer.

"So what's new since Saturday," Ron asked after taking a large sip of his drink. Harry just shrugged a bit.

"Nothing really," Harry responded. "You?"

"Not a thing," Ron said, drinking more beer. Harry just nodded.

"Sorry about the other day," He said idly. "Hannah got a bit more intense than was really necessary."

"S'okay," Ron said calmly. "Just doing your job."

"More or less," Harry said. "But she's a bit more invested in the case than I am. Always is when women wind up dead."

"Can't really blame her," Ron shrugged.

"I guess not," Harry responded.

"I still think Draco did it," Ron commented.

"He didn't," Harry laughed, wondering if he should really bring up a case detail, but he figured it didn't matter.

"Talked to him?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry responded. "He has an alibi. Well, an alibi we haven't really checked into that much yet. But it makes sense. And he was as surprised as everyone else. And he didn't know Miss Farley." Ron nodded and looked away. After a moment he took a large drink of his beer, finishing it off in the process. Harry nodded to the bartender who got them each another round and then asked if they wanted to order.

"Steak sandwich," Ron said. Harry paged through the menu resting on the bar for a moment before coming to his decision.

"Turkey club," he said and the bartender disappeared without comment. Harry half suspected he went into the back to make their food. They were the only two people in the pub at that point and he knew it had very little staff in general. Ron drank more beer as Harry sat and paged through the menu for a moment.

"How was shopping?" he asked idly, on memory of Hermione mentioning it during the weekend.

"I doubt she's had a real relationship," Ron commented. "You'll get to be her first. Just invite her over, make dinner, and go down on her."

"I don't remember it being that easy," Harry laughed, he finished his beer about the same point that Frank returned with their food. Ron slammed half of his third and the bartender returned with another round.

"Well it probably isn't. But you're Harry Potter and she's at least liked you for a decade," Ron commented.

"I don't think it's been that long," Harry shrugged. But he didn't feel like counting back the years to the first time he'd met her on the Hogwarts express.

"Anyway, she's pretty, although her tits are too small, and she wants you. Shack up with her already," Ron said.

"We'll see," Harry said, starting on his club. He didn't really have much more of a comment to make than that. He was silent as he ate. It wasn't until he finished up, and got another beer in Ron, that he decided to ask the question that was bothering him.

"So, Gemma Farley," he said. Ron turned pale, took another sip of his drink and looked back at his friend.

"What about her?" he asked.

"You know more than you're telling me," Harry said. "I'm not a stooge. I could tell that much on Friday."

"So?" Ron asked. He slid his stool a little bit away from Harry, as if the extra distance made him a little bit safer from the questioning.

"So, what's up?" Harry asked. He took a sip of his beer and intentionally didn't look at Ron. He wanted the questioning to seem as light as possible.

"Nothing," Ron said quietly.

"Try again," Harry sighed.

"I didn't have anything to do with her death," Ron said, defensively.

"I don't think you did," Harry said. "But I need all of the information I can get." Ron stared at him for a few moments.

"Promise you won't tell Hermione?" Ron asked. Harry just tilted his head and looked at his friend.

"I won't say a thing," he said.

"Gemma and I were seeing each other," Ron admitted. Harry nodded. If he was honest, he'd assumed as much.

"For how long?" he asked.

"About a year," Ron admitted.

"How did it happen?"

"She was dropping off ingredients for something we were working on one night. I don't remember quite what. But we chatted a bit while she was delivering them. I'm not sure what possessed me to do it, but I asked if she wanted to go get a drink. She just stared at me for a moment, but then agreed," Ron explained.

"And then?" Harry asked.

"And then what?" Ron shrugged. "We went out for a drink. We kissed a bit at the end of the night but she went home. A few days later I went to the shop to order more stuff and asked her out again. A couple weeks later we were sleeping with each other?"

"And Hermione never found out?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron shrugged. "She was too focused on work. It was really easy to just say I was going to try to invent something. More often than not I did all of my..erm…thinking in Gemma's bed."

"You realize this does give me a motive," Harry sighed, thinking that something must have gone wrong. He shook his head.

"I was going to ask her to marry me," Ron said. Harry blinked a bit.

"What?" He laughed.

"Yeah. In a few more weeks. I had to think of a way to break it off with Hermione, and then I'd give it some time. But Gemma was special, Harry," Ron sighed and took another sip of his beer.

"How so?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. She always seemed more interested in me. She was fun to be around. She was playful. She never really said no, or scolded me. And in bed, I mean, just wow. She was always willing. She'd let me do anything," Ron's voice trailed off a bit.

"I see," Harry said, hoping to stop that train of thought before it got too explicit.

"What are you going to do now?" Harry asked, doing his best to shift from cop to friend. Ron seemed to understand where he was going with the questioning.

"Nothing, I guess," Ron sighed. "Hermione is fine for now."

"I see," Harry shrugged. He thought Ron was perhaps being a bit cruel to their friend. But from what he could tell the two were usually happy. And, while he hadn't been married, he knew he wasn't one to comment on other's bedmates.

"I should get back to the office," Ron said as he checked his watch. Harry just nodded, he doubted his friend would go back to work after drinking that much at lunch. But he knew Ron just wanted to end the conversation, and he got all the information he needed.

"Alright, I'll get this," Harry said, grabbing some coins from his pocket. "What do you say to O'Callahan's on Wednesday for the Cannons match?"

"I'm down," Ron nodded as Harry paid. "See you then." Ron walked back to the floo and did say the joke shop as he left. But Harry still doubted he'd stay there long.

Harry, however, stepped outside and looked around the city. It was only a few blocks to the nearest apparation point and the walk would help him think. He hadn't really learned anything that he thought would help with the case. But he'd run it by Hannah when he next saw her. He just put his hands into his pockets and walked, hoping that something would come to him soon.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate it. As always the best way to contact me and actually get a response is typically through PM on the website.

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